The Best Cure for Colds (part 1/2)

Yeah, it’s not the Catlad sequel since I can’t bring myself to write that one just yet, but here, have another short Tim/Kon fic instead…

Where Tim is sick and Kon pays him a visit. Fluff ensues~ :)

The Best Cure for Colds - Part 1

Tim was sick and he felt absolutely dreadful.

He hadn’t felt this horrible since that time he mistaken one Kory’s bizarre Tameranian dishes for some leftover chicken broth, and then proceeded to spend the rest of the night being closely re-acquainted with a porcelain bowl.

Fun times.

All too similarly, Tim didn’t know he was feeling off until he was suddenly seeing double of everything.

Luckily for him, Dick was with him at the time and saw that he was practically walking himself into walls. Without another word, he half-dragged, half-carried Tim all the way back home, where Bruce eyed him critically for only a moment before telling—no, ordering—Tim to go straight to bed.

Of course, Tim was instantly against it (“I’m fine! Just a little tired, but I’m fine! I can continue patrol tonight—”) And then he fell on the receiving end of one of Bruce’s much scarier bat-glares and well, needless to say, Tim took the suggestion without any complaints after that.

And it was a good thing Bruce made him skip out on patrol. From the time he dressed himself down to a pair of PJs and slithered into bed, Tim was already feeling the full affects of his illness.

It wasn’t long before the fever kicked in, along with the uncontrollable shivering, the nausea and then the really bad headache which felt equivalent to having a rhino-morphed Beast Boy trample over his brain several hundred times over (and then some).

Tim didn’t know how long he spent between being curled up in his bed, checked up on by either Alfred or Dick (and even Bruce) to actually sleeping, because by the time he resurfaced from another fever-induced coma, he was more or less aware that someone was standing over his bed and watching him.

Even half-lucid with delirium, Tim’s senses were never less than alert. Trouble is, he couldn’t tell who it was.

“Dick? Is that you?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep and lack of use.

“Whoa, man, you really are out of it,” said a familiar voice that was evidently not his brother’s.

Tim peaked open one eye and then the other, letting his vision slowly focus before settling on the figure beside him. His eyes fell on short, dark hair, blue eyes that were clear even in the dark, and then lastly, on the bright red S-Shield at the front of their shirt.

“Kon?” he said, so surprised that he sat upright.

Big mistake. Just as soon as he got vertical, everything else in the room began swaying.

“Whoa! Hey, take it easy, Tim,” said Kon, who was instantly by Tim’s side, pressing a hand over his chest and easing him back down underneath the blankets gently.

Without thinking about it, Tim immediately latched onto Kon’s wrist, pulling him closer.

“You’re really here,” said Tim, both in awe and bewilderment by Kon’s mere presence.

“Yeah, I’m here,” said Kon softly. He didn’t say anything even as Tim’s hold tightened on his hand.

Part 2